


Whispers

by spikewriter



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-28
Updated: 2011-01-28
Packaged: 2017-10-15 03:48:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/156733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikewriter/pseuds/spikewriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes the memories are close enough to touch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whispers

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Challenge 2.10 of writerinatardis, the prompt being a photo of path and steps beneath trees

It was a whisper on the wind, but he swore he heard the sound of laughter drifting through the autumn air, along with the sound of feet pounding down steps, fallen leaves crunching beneath the rubber soles of trainers that had run on so many planets.

The Doctor took a deep breath, wishing for a moment he hadn't chosen to return here; there were so many places in the universe that he could easily live out his remaining regenerations without ever repeating a single stop. He didn't have to revisit these sights, no reason to open old wounds or relive the memory of Rose racing through the trees, laughing as she did so, looking back over her shoulder at him. Her eyes had dared him to try and catch her, but there had also been the hint of a promise if he succeeded.

He closed his own eyes, bringing the scene sharper into focus -- her hair half-pulled back, strands escaping to float across her face as her head turned toward him. She'd worn hoop earrings that day, pink lip gloss and a touch too much mascara for his taste, though he never would have dared say anything about it. She'd been wearing a t-shirt under a jean jacket, the very kind a girl wore when she was young and confident enough of her charms that she didn't have to always wear a short skirt or revealing top because she _knew_ her figure still attracted despite layers of denim and shoes that were chosen for practicality rather than looks.

She'd been young and he'd been oh-so-old. Old enough to know better; he'd always taken care with his human companions, made certain things didn't get too intense despite the closeness that came with the danger of life on the TARDIS, sending them home or gently encouraging them to take up some other dream when emotions started to get too sticky. The heart could love many times within a millennia, but heartbreak was something that quickly became difficult to endure.

He'd thought he'd known better. He'd seen battle and death and found himself surprised to still be among the living when so many he'd known -- and loved -- were dead. He'd spoken truth when he'd told Rose that living on while she aged was the curse of the Time Lords, but he hadn't said it all, that the true curse was living on when there were no others of your kind to share the burden. But even though he was scarred by battle, aching and wounded inside, she'd found the flicker of life and fanned it, making him consider all the things he thought long gone. His own fault that he'd left it for too little, too late.

Still, he watched the empty space, seeing ghosts of a trip that seemed many lifetimes ago, hearing the laughter and remembering how, for one brief moment, the universe had seemed sunny and happy in her company. He wanted to turn away, but that wasn't going to be easy because he wanted to see the scene again, remember that flicker of joy in what was the darkness of his life. In some ways it was a form of self-punishment for all his crimes, knowing he was once happy and loved and having it torn from his grasp.

"Oi! You going to stand there all day staring off into space? Do that long enough and folks will think you're a nutter."

Donna's voice was cheerful, and he turned to find her bustling up with her hands full of bags. "You know what I love about the TARDIS?" she offered, a grin on her face. "No running out of closet space because it's all bigger on the inside."

The Doctor shook his head. "I don't think any of my companions have every praised the TARDIS for her closet capacity. Of course, none of them came aboard with the amount of luggage you have."

"Maybe they didn't tell you, but any woman would have to be blind not to notice. If we were to market just that one little thing, expanding closets without losing space in the bedroom, we could rule the universe."

For a moment, it was on his lips to remind her that she couldn't go selling alien technology on Earth, just as she wasn't supposed to tell Agatha Christie what her future plotlines were, but then the sheer lunacy of it struck him. He remembered Martha's tiny flat with clothes on racks and storage bins shoved odd places because there simply wasn't room elsewhere and knew Donna spoke the truth. Oh, certainly someone would eventually figure out how to use the Transdimensional Physics to carry troops or keep prisoners, but the image of thousands of women happily installing closets that kept expanding started him laughing, something he hadn't done much of lately.

Donna didn't squawk, but simply waited until he stopped. "Better?"

Wiping tears from his eyes, the Doctor nodded. "Yes. I needed to remember there's humor in the universe. Sometimes I forget."

"What? You forget anything with the big spaceman brain of yours?" She snorted. "I don't believe it." Then her voice softened. "You came here with Rose, didn't you?"

"Yeah," he admitted, because he could admit it to Donna. "Long, long time ago. Don't know why I suggested it."

"Because it holds happy memories for you. Because you want to remember her, even if you won't talk about her." She paused. "Like Mum won't talk about Dad, but you know she can't forget him."

For a moment, they were silent, the pain of absent loved ones hanging heavily. Then Donna shrugged her shoulders slightly, as if physically casting the heaviness away. "Come on; I've got more shopping to do, so you can come help carry things and tell me more about the trouble you got into last time you were here."

He felt himself grin, unaccountably pleased to be invited to tell the story without the hushed tones that all too often accompanied the few mentions of Rose he was willing to offer. "We didn't get into trouble. Welllll, not much trouble and it really was just a misunderstanding because there were certain local customs..."

As they strolled away, he allowed himself one final glance back. For just a moment, he could swear he saw Rose racing down those steps once more, Jack in hot pursuit in more ways than one, but it was him she glanced back toward, him she wanted to follow and catch her, her intent and invitation clear. And he saw himself looking so different, another face and life, but grinning with an enthusiasm he'd thought he'd never feel again as he started after her, his first steps a little tentative, but growing stronger and surer as he moved. The heart could love many times within a millennia and heartbreak something that quickly became difficult to endure, but there was always someone who was worth it all.


End file.
